By Jane Lavino
This article was originally published in PCJH’s Winter 2025 Pinnacle, “Testimonies of Faith.”
My first church was the First Presbyterian Church of Yorktown Heights, just north of New York City. Its earliest congregants worshiped together in 1730. During the Revolutionary War, the church served as a storehouse for ammunition and supplies for patriots. The beautiful, historic sanctuary was destroyed by British troops in 1779, rebuilt in the 1780s, and hasn’t changed much in appearance since – white clapboard siding, a steepled belfry, and leaded glass windows. A graveyard stands adjacent with worn granite markers arranged in wobbly rows. I played hide and seek, and tag in that churchyard with the preacher’s kids. We crouched behind memorials engraved with the names of long-dead devotees: Obadiah, Hannah, and Ebenezer.
My parents, three sisters, and I took up an entire wooden pew on Sunday mornings. I loved the hymns pumped out of the bellowing pipe organ. I learned how to follow the lines and stanzas in a hymnal, and listened to my father’s deep baritone harmonizing the melody. I observed him as he bowed his head in prayer. My sisters and I attended Sunday school, sang (reluctantly) in the youth choir, and were giddy angels in the nativity pageant on Christmas Eve. Later we joined the youth group on Sunday nights, and at 18, we became confirmed church members. Singing, praying, and sharing life in this way with family and friends felt good. A seed was planted.
Later, as an undergrad at Bowdoin College, I sporadically attended the Maine Street Baptist Church in Brunswick, Maine. I chose that church because I could easily walk to it (I didn’t have a car.) A lasting memory of that congregation is of a kind older woman who hosted a group of us students in her home for Sunday dinner after service. As a skinny distance runner, good food was surely the way to my heart. That period of my life was defined by studying hard and running harder.
In my junior year of college, I yearned for change. I applied to the Twelve College Exchange Program; essentially a domestic study abroad program. I packed up my running shoes and skis and moved to Hanover, New Hampshire, home of Dartmouth College. I went there seeking anthropology courses and the chance to compete on a Division I track team, but I found much more. Two teammates were involved with the on-campus Christian ministry group. They invited me to join them, and soon I was enraptured by this vibrant, powerful presence on campus. It wasn’t long before I regularly attended worship, bible studies, and retreats. I was 20 years old, and for the first time, my faith felt more important than anything else. I prayed to a living God who wanted me, loved me, and had plans for me. The world felt bright, new, and full of possibility. One sparkling morning, at the start of a New England summer, I was baptized by immersion in Lake Sunapee, surrounded by old-growth forests and rolling mountains. My faith and my relationship with God became my sails and my anchor.
I read the bible, and books by Christian authors like CS Lewis. I sought out Christians so I could learn from them. My faith was a close and constant companion through the joyful, challenging years of establishing a career, marrying, building a house, raising a child, and mourning the loss of loved ones. I am grateful to all the churches that preserved me: a Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, a Redeemer Lutheran Church, a Quaker Society of Friends, and a Baptist Church. Each congregation gave me something valuable for my journey.
My husband and I moved to Jackson after summers working in Yellowstone. We became members of the Presbyterian Church of Jackson Hole at its inception in 1992. Joining a Presbyterian church felt like completing a circle, since that’s where I started. I’ve been with PCJH for 30 years now, far longer than at any other church. This place, its programs, and its people nurture me, challenge me, and guide me. Over time, I’ve grown from being purely a “consumer” of church to a contributor at church. Increased involvement helped me meet more people, share my gifts, and fully receive the gifts of others. Thanks be to God for the compassion, kindness, wisdom, generosity, and love this body of Christ has shown me. By the grace of God, I look forward to continuing this journey of faith with all of you.